


Linked

by stepantrofimovic



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Fluff without Plot, Holding Hands, Long Distance Relationship, M/M, Other, Sleeping & Cuddling, Warm and Fuzzy Feelings, people being happy, platonic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-03
Updated: 2015-02-03
Packaged: 2018-03-10 07:58:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 843
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3282845
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stepantrofimovic/pseuds/stepantrofimovic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Natasha and Steve, holding hands. Clint watches.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Linked

**Author's Note:**

> In my mind, this is set in the same universe as _Something Blue_ , some time after Clint left the Bus and went back to the Tower. Of course, you don't need to have read SB to understand what's going on in here.

When Clint slips into the Avengers’ common floor at two in the morning, he doesn’t expect to find any of his teammates awake. Heck, he wouldn’t be either, if it wasn’t for the fact that he’s come back from France just yesterday and his internal clock is apparently still set on Central European Time. Still, to stumble upon someone napping in one of the armchairs isn’t anything unusual, even at this time of night – after more than two years of living together, there’s no one on the team who doesn’t feel safe enough to fall asleep around the others. Some of them (“some of them” being mainly Tony) seem to prefer this to sleeping alone. Even Nat has almost let go of some of her most noticeable watchful habits.

Being prepared to find someone there doesn’t help Clint avoid a double take when he realizes just who the two people sleeping on the common floor tonight are. Or when it becomes clear that neither of them is showing any signs of being roused by his presence.

The common floor is a large open space, with couches and chairs and tables and beanbags (Bruce loves beanbags with a passion that rivals Thor’s fascination for chaises longues) strewn about, so that it gets more or less divided into irregularly-shaped areas. There’s a couple of TV screens, video-game sets, a ping pong table (which no one ever uses if Natasha is around, because there’s just so many times you can lose 33-0 without it getting on your nerves), as well as a kitchen corner (of course) and a quiet niche for meditation, partially shielded from view and equipped with soft cushions and yoga mats.

The two people Clint spots are lying right there. One is propped up against the wall, a thick, forest green pillow protecting his back, and the other is curled up at his side, not really touching him, except for one rather obvious point of contact.

Natasha’s arm is stretched out on the floor, her slender fingers curled over Steve’s left hand.

Clint pads quietly across the room. If Nat hasn’t stirred by this point, he’s almost sure she won’t wake up unless he makes some noise. Which isn’t something he plans to do, obviously. As he gets closer, he takes in the way Steve’s broad chest rises and falls in a steady rhythm. Nat is utterly still, even in her sleep – it’s something Clint has gotten familiar with, after all the times he’s woken up at her side.

His gaze focuses on Steve and Nat’s hands. Their fingers aren’t exactly laced together, and the pose is slightly awkward – Steve’s hand has gone slack on the floor, his wrist bent, while Natasha’s fingers seem to have found their way into his palm and then decided that they liked it and were going to take up residence there. Clint guesses that they probably weren’t like this when they fell asleep – the most likely position would have had Nat holding onto Steve’s wrist, probably providing silent comfort. (Clint thinks he knows what that was about. Bucky’s return, coupled with the fall of SHIELD, hasn’t been easy on either of them.) She probably didn’t start off curled up on the floor as well – a persimmon-colored pillow, the one she must have been leaning on, now lays discarded at her side.

Still, Clint notices the way Steve’s hand isn’t completely relaxed, his fingers curling up just enough for the tips to touch Nat’s, holding on to her touch even as he slid into deep sleep.

Carefully, the archer slides his phone out of his pocket. He’s pretty sure that Natasha won’t hate him for this. Not too much, at least. She’ll probably threaten disembowelment just to maintain her reputation, but it won’t be serious. He thinks.

Steve, of course, will just ask him to send his regards to Director Coulson.

He snaps a picture of their linked hands, adds two lines, and hits send.

_nat & steve  
:)_

About thirty seconds later, the screen lights up with an incoming message.

_=), indeed._

Clint smiles. He thinks about holding Phil’s hand. He thinks of waking up and finding Phil at his side, instead of not even knowing where he is beyond _location: classified_.

Knowing it’s necessary helps. Not as much as he’d want, but still.

His phone’s screen lights up again.

_I miss you._

He barely gets the time to read this second message before a third one comes through.

_A lot._

If he concentrates hard enough, Clint thinks he can feel the warmth of Phil’s touch over his hand. In his mind, he lets himself curl up around it.

_miss you too_

_=)_

When Nat finds out about the message ( _of course_ she finds out about the message), she doesn’t threaten to gut him with a butter knife as he expected. Instead, she walks up to him and ruffles his hair until he’s sure it’s sticking up in the most embarrassing way. He leans into her touch anyway, and she just smiles, adjusts her hold, and switches to petting his scalp.

**Author's Note:**

> Phil is the kind of person who types "=)" rather than ":)". That's what you call a defining character trait.
> 
> (self-promotion time: I have [a tumblr](http://stepantrofimovic.tumblr.com/). Come say hi.)


End file.
